Dear Mum...a Reflection on Mother's Day

“If you have anything to say about Mom that’s less than stellar — consider changing your name.”

That was the message from most of my family. One sister agreed with me. “Everyone had their own experience and if others can’t appreciate that it’s their loss.”

Regarding Mother’s Day, no one shares nor wants to understand any version of Mom that doesn’t match their perfect memories.

No one wants to rail at their mom. Unless that is you’re a celebrity writing a memoir like Jenette McCurdy and your book is “I’m Glad My Mom Died.”

For the rest of us mere mortals it’s easier to recount the good versus admitting the other.

I’m not glad my mom died she was not a bad person and I don’t seek to discredit her.

However, Mom was emotionally absent and I weigh what effect that had on me.

Every year Mother’s Day arrives I look at old photos and wonder what could have been.

Scrutiny, good or bad, it’s best not to forget. To do so is to dishonor what happened. The truth — even if no one else wants to hear it or worse attack you for saying it.

About Mom

Mom thought I was a delusional misfit, unbridled, undisciplined, trouble-maker, disrespectful, risk-taker, and stupid.

Admittedly, I was a hippie dropout between the ages of 15-17. Not exactly a charming young man a middle-class, staunch Republican parent could be proud of.

Understood if perhaps, my mom was Joan Baez the folk legend of the anti-war protest movement.

Not only did Mom not listen to music, but the arts were also for liberals, rich people, and homosexuals. And there I sat — the rotten little egg too big for his britches

No one was to know this, especially her relatives or coworkers. But, it caught on with family and the bad rap stuck like old chewing gum in the jaw of gossip.

No one was also to know that her marriage was a lie. She seemed to think that the mask she put on made an impression of normality.

To her credit, when I was young, Mom kept the roof over my head. But I never saw her go for a walk and tried to remarry.

It seemed Mother’s Day for her was spent in a rocking chair. In the chair, she would puff on a cigarette and gaze at a wall that held no family or marriage photos.

By her early 40s, she had become a successful businessperson. But she remained to herself in the home where life wasn’t as easy as managing an annual candy sale for girl camps.

“It’s my job to put clothes on your back!” She snapped.

How this Hera paid the rent, put food on the table, and kept the household running was from Mt. Olympus.

Her job was a sanctuary; a place respected, where she was the boss. She had a disabled and womanizing husband, two young daughters, and one hitchhiking son. And another son was wanted by the military for being AWOL.

Coming of age felt like the black-and-white conditions of the depression-era farm where she grew up. You didn’t ask questions, you followed orders, did your chores, or go hungry.

Make a mistake? You made the bed now lie in it.

The things my dad did to her were unforgivable but she took care of him anyway.

I knew she wanted to cry but the well was dry. Also, much like Dad, Mom hadn’t always been this broken.

Touching her was off-limits, so we had no physical contact. Dad complained later, after they divorced, that she was cold.

Mom didn’t give me an eating disorder but there are other things I can’t forget like she tried to give me away twice.

This is a Mother’s Day remembrance, not a memoir so I’ll cut out a long list of other examples.

One sister summarized my relationship with Mom and said “I was basically abandoned.”

True or not it set the stage for a rocky road most of my life.

What did some of the great literary icons think of their moms?

Like Mark Twain, I would describe my relationship with Mom as passive-aggressive.

Unlike Edgar Allan Poe I never apologized for not measuring up because going by her standards wasn’t right.

Ernest Hemmingway was an ass to his mom I was not.

Ezra Pound couldn’t explain why his mom didn’t understand art and I can’t either.

T.S. Elliot and I both had to tell our moms how great we were.

Sylvia Plath wouldn’t tell her mom she was a Novelist.

Jack Kerouac's mom sent him money on the road.

What Is an Emotionally Absent Mother?

She was good at the outer things they think a mother should do but had no clue how very big the job of mothering is. — Jasmin Lee Cori, author of “The Emotionally Absent Mother”

Many years later, until I had a wife and child, did we re-bond. But first, Mom had to ask my new wife what she saw in a loser like me.

I call that behavior the slap down. It’s you’re not good enough for anything or anyone. And an Emo Absent person loves to use it. It’s a surefire sign they need to feel above you.

12 Signs your mother is emotionally absent

1. She Is Overly Critical

2. Her Responses Are Erratic and Inconsistent

3. She Uses Guilt To Manipulate You

4. You Are Blamed For Her Situation Or Stress

5. She Gives You The Silent Treatment

6. It’s Your Job To Keep Her Happy

7. Nothing You Do Is Good Enough For Her

8. You Had To Earn The Things That You Received

9. Doesn’t Allow You Privacy Or Wants To Know All Of Your Business

10. Speaks To You In An Aggressive Or Belittling Way

11. Won’t Allow You To Be Yourself

12. Won’t recognize your accomplishments

Time to heal

Mom found it difficult to be close so to omit matters of her health comes as no surprise.

After her third bout with cancer, she wore a colostomy.

Mom drifted in and out of pain — often going days eating nothing and living on sleeping pills.

At her last moment, I whispered in her ear with missing feelings. “I’m sorry if I let you down or cause you any pain. Please forgive me, Mom. I always loved you. You will be missed and remembered.”

The Emotionally Absent Mother.

This book led me to reflect on my relationship with my mom instead of blocking it from my mind like I had been doing.

Was your mother preoccupied, distant, or even demeaning? Have you struggled with relationships — or with your self-worth? Often, the grown children of emotionally absent mothers can’t quite put a finger on what’s missing from their lives. The children of abusive mothers may recognize the abuse — but overlook its lasting, harmful effects. — Author and Psychotherapist Jasmin Lee Cori.

Your spouse probably learned this behavior from their mother or you are passing it on to your child.

Like alcoholism, abuse can be inherited.

Acknowledgment is the first step in healing and the book is a good place to start and heal.

Happy Mother’s Day

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